Date: Mon, 2 Aug 1999 02:48:22 EDT
From: Tommyhawk1@aol.com
Subject: Squire.of.Carlovain.Chapter.11

			    SQUIRE OF CARLOVAIN
			   By Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
				Chapter 11
				"Footpads"

     Andrew felt weary after the fight, and went to bed with hardly a
glance at Renaud, who wisely let him do as he would.  He slept soundly and
the next thing he knew was when Renaud shook him gently at first light.
     "Awaken, my brave guard." he said to Andrew.  "We must travel now to
Heslov, for Grandmother has determined that we should be there before
dark."
     Andrew arose and stretched.  His body was still quite sore, and the
prospect of a long days' ride (for that was all that would get them to
Heslov in one day's time; Heslov was nearly a hundred miles away, and they
would be further slowed by the carriages and wagons that would surely
accompany such a large group) filled him with nothing but loathing.  It
would actually be pleasant to get to Heslov, which at least promised a long
period of rest.
     A quick breakfast of yesterday's bread, even for Dame Ratisbon (Andrew
ate his while standing behind Renaud, at his behest) and then down to the
carriage.
     Andrew had his horse, and it was Trevish who was holding it for him.
Adomeh was also there.  "Are you coming with us?" Andrew asked hopefully.
     "Nay, we journey back to the Count's house." Trevish said, turning his
head as he winked an eye.  Andrew knew then that they had no intention of
entering the Count's employ, but would likely take off at the first chance.
He was their pipeline and main thrust of effort now, they would be his
couriers to loyalist forces.  It was up to him to give them something worth
the journey.  Andrew looked over at Renaud, at the happy-hopeful face he
had, and steeled his resolve.  War required some sacrifice.  This young
nobleman's dreams of land was a small price to pay to restore the King to
the throne.
     Dame Ratisbon's carriage was enclosed, of course, and she and her two
maidservants rode inside.  The nobility of Carlovain used the ancient rules
of courtly behavior; women were kept isolated and protected.  The Count's
main house undoubtedly had an entire courtyard set aside for them, inside
whose walls Dame Ratisbon had lived most of her life.  That left room for
one man in the carriage, and Ernaud took it with a smirk on his face, as if
he were getting away with a great liberty.  That carriage, shuttered, held
no attraction to Andrew.
     This isolation of one's womenfolk struck Andrew as a silly thing to be
doing, when a women given her head could be a positive strength in a
marriage, rather than a total liability.  But a lot of things the nobility
did were foolish, those preposterous shoes Renaud and Ernaud wore, for
instance.  Fortunately Ernaud had worn proper riding gear this day....
     "To your saddles and order!" came the call and Andrew hastily got
astride his steed.  His buttocks were immediately sore, as they remembered
the hard riding he had done these last days, but it was just something he'd
have to live with.  At least the pain was somewhat lessened by the rest he
had received yesterday.
     But what was his "order?"  Andrew looked at Trevish his query and
Trevish took the horse's reins and led Andrew over to Renaud's side just in
front of the carriage.
     Their pace was slow, the day was yet not uncomfortably warm, and a
gentle breeze aided that.  When some of the young nobles started up a happy
song, Andrew felt comfortable about singing along with them, even.  Then
when they tired of that, there were stories among these twenty noblemen,
most of which Andrew hadn't heard before.  He found the journey quite
pleasant, and starkly in contrast to the hard riding he had done with
Trevish and Adomeh, traveling through the lush forest with the leaves heavy
and green with summer which had not yet sapped all the life from them.
Their canopy was a welcome shelter from the sun which stole through only as
shafts of yellow fire here and there.
     But the noblemen's stories and songs paled and stopped as the day grew
hotter.  When they passed over the bridge of the River Tenemon, which would
curve far south before turning back to form part of the natural barrier
which had protected Carlovain from both Julius Caesar and Charlemagne, well
over half the young nobles stopped for a swim, and they left them behind,
to strip off their clothing and dive into the placid blue waters.  Andrew
envied them.
     A few hours later, after a lunch consumed in the saddle (more simple
hunks of bread, Andrew was beginning to wonder if servants ever got a
proper meal!), they came to a small lake and Dame Ratisbon called a stop.
She stepped out of the carriage and said peevishly, "You should ride
further on.  I'm told there's another river a short ways on; you can stop
there and wait for us to catch up."
     The other noblemen stopped to argue and Andrew didn't blame them, for
now it was well into the early afternoon and the heat was horrid.  Then he
heard Renaud's voice in his ear.  "Let's ride on."
     He did, and they were alone now upon the road.  Andrew could not even
hear the voices behind them.  "Why did we ride on?" he asked Renaud.
     Renaud's eyes turned to him and an impish smile briefly caught fire
upon his face.
     "Oh." Andrew said and couldn't help but smile in his turn.
     They came to a small stream, and after pausing and letting the horses
take water there and refreshing their own lips and water-sacks, they rode
on.  Now the day was getting more and more unpleasant.
     "We'll stop and rest at the river." Renaud said.
     "Why didn't the rest of them ride on with us?" Andrew asked.
     "The official reason would be that the ladies should be
well-protected.  The unofficial reason would be a chance to glimpse them in
their bathing attire." Renaud explained.  "While they will not trouble the
maidservants, the chance to view them in their baths is one they won't want
to miss."
     Andrew had to grimace and Renaud laughed.  "I can see you prefer a
different sort of venison, my loyal guard."
     Andrew smiled.  "Why chase the forbidden meat, when legal game is
close to hand and ready for the pot?  Speaking of which, I am getting
hungry."
     "I have some provisions in my bag." Renaud patted one of them.  "I
wouldn't take it out with that crowd around, but we can form a little
picnic."
     "Does your grandmother really plan to make Heslov by nightfall?"
     "So she claims." Renaud said.  "But I misdoubt but we'll have to find
a campsite for one night at least.  That carriage is ponderously slow.
Though she is wise to make haste, for this land will soon go to lawlessness
in these times."  Renaud cocked his head.  "I believe we have found the
river that my grandmother spoke of."
     They had, indeed.  A mere tributary of the Tenemon, this river cut
across their path and no proper bridge awaited there; it had a foot-bridge
and a broad, flat raft alongside it.  To ferry the horses across would
require retrieving the raft and coaxing them onto the raft and then over,
or having the horses swim the small, rather shallow river.
     "This side looks more enticing." Renaud said.  "Let us ride upriver a
short ways and find a place to await our comrades."
     "You needn't bother waiting." came a rough voice.  "We have already
found you."
     Andrew turned on his horse and gaped.  Well over a dozen roughly
dressed men with unshorn beards and cruel expressions came out to surround
them.
     "Well, we have caught a dandy and his footman." said the leader.  He
was the wildest of the group.  His black hair--for they were all
Neresterii--was large and unkempt, having been cut only haphazardly with a
knife here and there.  His beard was filthy with twigs and bits of leaves.
They had undoubtedly been resting here, not expecting to find travelers in
this heat of day, but having arose and springing to the bait when it
arrived in the form of Renaud and Andrew.  "Footman, I ken you are of my
own blood and so I offer you the chance to leave in peace."
     Andrew saw the danger and, knowing nothing of horsed combat, chose to
dismount and face the men on foot.  "Nay, only if you let us both part in
peace." he said as he took hold of the shaft of his sword, but not drawing
it even though the men he faced all had bared weapons.  They held knives
and staves, and only the leader had a sword, rusty and unkempt as he was,
but a blade for all that.  It was this leader that Andrew faced.  "We have
no quarrel with you and will offer apology for disturbing your resting
place."
     "You can apologize by turning over your money bags." the leader
grinned.  He was broad-chested and when he stepped forward, his shirt gaped
and showed the strong, scar-striped chest.  An escaped felon, then, for few
went into prison without suffering lashes and the long multi-tailed whips
used by the noble's prison guards were likely apt to snake around and lash
the front of a man as well, leaving him scarred with stripes like a tiger
that didn't quite meet in front.
     "We have offered our pardon and you have refused it." Renaud said,
also dismounting and standing by Andrew.  They were betrayed by these men
as they did so, for stepping away from their horses, some of the men, who
had worked around behind them, caught the reins and led them away.  Now
they were unhorses, and surrounded.
     Andrew would have faced the leader, but Renaud would not move.  So
Andrew was left to take Renaud's back and face the motley crew from that
side.  Back to back, they warded each other.
     "I give you one final chance to take our peace and leave." Renaud
barked out with a nervous tremor in his voice.
     That tremor seemed to have been heard by the leader, for without a
sound from him that Andrew caught, there was a sudden roar from many male
throats, and the crowd pressed in upon them.
     Andrew feared the one with a stave more than the three with a knife
from his side.  He stepped to one side so that this one would be foremost.
This man wielded the stave inexpertly, though he was a strong,
brave-seeming man, he had never faced a sword or he would not have kept his
stave poised with both hands wide.  Andrew feinted, the man moved to block
and Andrew's swing back turned the stave, a weapon, into two shorter
sticks.
     "You can see the value of a well-oiled blade." he called to the
others.  "Your pig-stickers cannot avail you."
     There were sounds of clashing blades and Andrew took the indecision of
the others to cast a quick look around.  Renaud was matching swords with
the leader, and others were pressing in close.  Andrew darted to Renaud's
unguarded side and fended off the men, then returned to ward Renaud's back.
Renaud had made a similar move, and that let the leader come in close.
Renaud was now standing at Andrew's fore to one side, and Andrew gave a
sudden whirling turn and cut at the leader intent upon Renaud, and the
leader was forced to step back.
     But that let the men with knives close in.  Andrew found that he had
little room to move, and the knives were quicker of movement in the hands
of experts.
     Two of these men were experts with the blades.
     Andrew cut at one of them, a glancing blow which but nicked the man,
but the others managed a slice at Andrew in turn.  Pain lanced from
Andrew's left arm, and he hacked savagely at the man, catching him on the
shoulder and biting deep into him.
     Another knife caught his right forearm now, and this one was harder.
Andrew found his arm wanted to let loose of his sword, and it was only the
discipline of his father's teachings that let him keep the blade.  It was
his turn to step back, where he nearly ran into one of Renaud's attackers.
     A sharp stab into his left shoulderblade, a cut in the back!  Andrew
felt helpless here against these men.  A sword was supposed to be a
superior blade to these common knives, but here he was, being whittled away
at a little at a time by these cuts.
     Andrew whirled with his blade held high, and sheer luck caused this
act to cut down another of the attackers.  Renaud had done well enough, the
leader had retired from the battle, clutching his sword arm, and the
attackers were now more grim-faced and less confident.
     But they were still outnumbered, and closely pressed.
     Andrew had to ignore the men at his back, trust Renaud to defend it,
while he dealt with the four men facing him now, all with blades.  He
didn't know where the rest of the attackers were, and couldn't stop to
look, for he was fending off four stabbing arms, catching one man's hand
with a slashing cut that rippled over the top of the man's hand.
     "Come on!" their leader called out.  "Bring them down.  You've got
them now, lads!  Bring them down!"
     A rage built up in Andrew and he fought now, despite his wounds,
despite the throbbing pain in his sword arm that pulsed and which he
vaguely saw was spreading his life's blood with every move, so that he
showered his attackers with red splatters, droplets of his life.  He was
feeling, too, that the blade in his shoulder was still there, a sharp
projectile imbedded in his bone, and he felt, too, blood trickling down his
back.
     His eyes were threatening to lose their focus and he stabbed and
roared with his anger, and was met with equal growls from these villains,
these thieves, who were his kin but not his equals!
     And the big man with the stave had returned and, standing outside the
line of flashing blades, he grinned a mean grin and aimed one end of the
long pole at Andrew's midsection.
     Andrew grunted and doubled up.  His wind had been knocked from him
with that blow which had landed just below his rib cage, and hard!  He fell
down onto all fours, his sword flew from his hand, and he looked at the
ground below him.  This is where I die, he realized, waiting for the blow
from above that would end his life here, on the bank of this small river,
far from his home and farther from his family.
     And Renaud jumped over him, and slashed back the men facing Andrew.
"Hah!" he snarled.  "You vermin can't stand before me!"
     He started to say more in this vein, but then a knife caught his arm
and he grunted, stumbled over Andrew and Andrew heard him fall, willing
himself to rise, which he did but his sword, his sword was now at his feet
and he was helpless before this crowd, and they knew it as well as he and
he knew that it shone in his very eyes.  Defeated by this rabble, this
motley crew of footpads, he, who had dreamed of honors at the King's hands,
he who had been chosen as the King's own squire, he would die here this
day, for the few coins he had on his person.
     But the other young nobles had arrived.  A stampeding sound of hooves
and the crowd facing them dispersed in howls, pursued through the brushes
by the mounted young men who did know how to fight on horseback, and so now
Andrew realized dully that he was alive, and owed his very life, to these
Frenchmen!
     Andrew looked at Renaud, and said, "My Master, you are wounded.  Let
me tend to you." he focused on the red slash on Renaud's shoulder and
another on his legs and he stepped forward and his feet failed him and he
crashed to the ground and blackness closed in on him.
     He awoke a short time later, in pain, when the knife in his back was
yanked away.
     "Whoa, steady!" one of the men called out.  "We've got to staunch
these wounds.  That one on your sword arm is grievous.  They have cut an
artery there."
     Andrew lay still while they bound his wounds with lengths of cloth,
generously torn from their own tunics.
     "You guarded your Master well." one of them said.  "I would have
surrendered at any of these three wounds you bear, I swear."
     "He guarded me." Andrew said.  "When I fell, it was he who fought them
away."
     "Ho, I but repaid a debt." Renaud said.  "Your scaring away the knives
on my left distracted that bladed knave and let me cut him.  You did not
see?"
     "No." Andrew admitted.
     "We owe each other our lives." Renaud said.  "And I declare you are no
longer my servant, but my remereh-na-kaserin.  Whatever fortunes await for
me shall be shared by you in full, I promise you."  The
"remereh-na-kaserin" meant literally "brother-by-the-sword" and was a
Neresterii word.  Much like "blood-brother", it was not a gift of gratitude
for the saving of one's life, but more like an acknowledgment of fact, and
thus could not be disclaimed or denied.
     "I greet you, my brother." Andrew said, for this was the proper
formula and he said it without heat or comprehension, and his world receded
again to a pinpoint of light, which extinguished itself as a candle-wick
does in the puddle of melted wax at its base.
     It was nightfall when he awoke again, and this time it was to a wine
jug being lifted to his lips.  He drank, sputtered in surprise--he had
expected only water--and then drank gratefully, for wine was known to
restore the blood and invigorate the heart.  The wine was left to his lips
for as long as he cared to suckle at the small spout.
     When he was done, he heard Dame Ratisbon's voice.  "Well, Renaud,
thanks to you we have made less than half of the trip this day."
     "We wouldn't have made Heslov in one day, Grandmother." Renaud said.
     "We would have had to ride after dark." agreed Dame Ratisbon.  "But
instead we stay while you tended this man.  Couldn't you have let me leave
a servant here to tend him?"
     "It is my business how I treat the man you turned over to me for my
servant." Renaud said firmly.  "He saved my life and got his wounds in my
service.  I would not leave him behind as you would an old hunting dog
gored by the stag at bay."
     "The difference escapes me." Dame Ratisbon said drily.  "You declared
this Neresterii blade a member of your family, I am told.  Given that your
own food and drink comes from my larder, you are rash with your promises."
     "I am grateful for the family's help." Renaud said.  "And I will repay
the family if I can but win favor at court, I promise you.  But I will not
turn my back upon him.  The footpads gave him the chance to escape and he
stayed by my side.  I doubt if the coin you offered him bought that.  Nay,
it was loyalty to me, and I shall repay it in kind."
     "That is your affair." Dame Ratisbon said, but she seemed kinder, more
tolerant in tone somehow.  "I shall give you one of the wagons for you to
bring in.  You can throw him in as well, if you can strap him on top in
some manner."
     "I can ride." Andrew protested, sitting upright and his world swirled
around him.  He saw not the river and trees, but canvas, he was inside some
sort of tent.
     "Lay back and rest, you young fool." Dame Ratisbon said and turned to
the servants.  "Pack as much as you can of the supplies onto the other
wagons.  He'll need to ride in the bed.  Come, let us decide what we can
abandon.  Perhaps we can pack some of it with us into the carriage for the
rest of the ride."
     They took off and Andrew looked over at Renaud.
     "Can you eat something now?" Renaud said.  "My friends brought down a
buck and have saved the heart meat for you.  It is said to replenish the
blood."
     "I shall try." Andrew said.  "I would sit upright."
     Renaud permitted him this, but only after bringing over a sack for him
to rest against.
     "Quite a fight we had this day." Andrew said.
     "I was never gladder to have you at my back and my side." Renaud said.
"Such loyalty I have not seen before among my family's servants.  When they
offered you the chance to fly, I expected you to take it."
     "That would have left you alone." Andrew said.  "I knew we only needed
to hold them off until the others arrived.  They would not have attacked us
had we stayed with the group.
     "Yes, and it was my idea to ride ahead." Renaud said.  "Foolish of me,
I should have simply waited until we got to the Castle."
     "You did not force me to ride with you." Andrew said.  "I came with
you willingly."
     "And we were both fools." Renaud said.  "But you are my kind of fool.
Rest now while I check upon the meal."
     Andrew watched as his master, a man of noble blood, fussed over the
fire and brought him back a plate of the meat.  He had even cut it into
portions for him!  "You are too kind to me." he said.
     Renaud picked up one of the pieces of meat and blew on it.  "Hush,
now, my mignon.  Here."  And he pushed the food into Andrew's mouth.
     Andrew ate like that, the food hot and warm, the taste of meat freshly
killed.  It did seem to reinvigorate him, or perhaps it was the wine now
coursing warmly through his veins.  The chirping of crickets were now
louder by far than the roaring in his ears.  He looked Renaud rather
blearily, but it was the wine he was unaccustomed to in such quantities,
rather than the earlier giddiness of his wounds.
     "You should eat some." he said after the plate was over half-consumed.
"You too bled this day."
     "Pah.  A couple of flesh wounds.  I doubt either will leave a real
scar." Renaud said.  "I have lost more blood through fencing bouts with my
brothers and cousins.  You were the one spilling your blood plentifully as
your blade played among the villains.  Can you drink more wine?"
     "Nay, I dare not." Andrew admitted.  "But some water now would be
welcomed."
     "I'll fetch it for you." Renaud went down to the river and scooped up
a goblet.  Andrew saw no sign of the others.
     When Renaud returned he felt well enough to take the goblet in his own
hands, which were quite steady, and said, "Where are your grandmother and
the servants?"  He quaffed the water, the blessedly delicious water that
sprang from Carlovain's heart.
     "They are down the river a short way." Renaud explained.  "There is a
bank there of sand which will make for a fine campsite.  I inisted that we
keep you here.  I didn't want you to be moved unnecessarily.  There is
enough room here for our bed."
     Andrew finished the water and said, "I am ready enough to sleep."
     "Then lay back again, my mignon, while I shall dampen down the fire."
     Andrew did, and grunted a little when his shoulder touched the ground.
The knife that had lived there a short time had cut deeply but not widely.
His left arm didn't want to obey him without a pulling pain from there, but
the pain itself declared that he would heal.  He made himself comfortable
and waited for Renaud.
     Renaud came in with a smoking tree-branch, and, securing the tent
flaps, "smoked" the inside of the tent.  It smelled up the place with the
odor of burning wood, but caused the many mosquitos that had entered the
tent, whose myriad cousins hummed like a tiny army outside, to fall dead
upon contact with the smoke.  Done with this slaughter of insects, Renaud
lay down next to him and, both of them still fully clothed below the waist,
pulled the blanket over himself as well.
     The tent served another purpose, it concealed them from prying eyes.
The wine still pounded in Andrew's veins, and when Renaud's lips sought out
his, he returned it in kind.  His arms hurt to go around Renaud's form, but
he made them perform the task nevertheless.
     "Ah, my mignon." Renaud said, using the nickname he had given Andrew
now as a loving caress of words.  "Never risk your life like that again.  I
could not bear it.  We shall hire another to guard us both at the palace.
You had two comrades with you, did you not?"
     "Yes." Andrew said.
     "Then we'll send for them." Renaud said with decision.  "They can
stand guard outside our chambers day and night, so we can make love
unceasingly."
     "But you must spend hours at the side of...of the Lord Protector."
Andrew said clumsily.  "You must keep your ears open to anything that will
let you gain his favor."
     "We shall both do that, then." Renaud said.  "But only some of the
time.  The rest of the time, we shall steal away and be together, as one,
my kaserin."
     "That sounds wonderful to me, my...."  Andrew trailed off, he could
not bring himself to use the word.  Even though Renaud had saved his life,
he could not say the words, even though it was customary among the
Neresterii to never use any other word after the "brother-of-the-sword"
kinship had been declared.  He could only avoid any term for Renaud, and
hope the lack thus never showed unduly.
     A happy alternative came to him.  He need not declare Renaud an enemy
outright.  Renaud was only desirous of lands, not truly a traitor to the
King even though he went to join Montaigne's court.  He would accept land
grants from the King as quickly.  This made him not an enemy, but a
neutral.  Andrew need only work things so that he defeated Montaigne
without endangering Renaud, or even to bring Renaud to his side at the
appropriate moment.  Could a "kaserin" work against his own?  Certainly
not!  And Renaud...he was half Neresterii.  Enough to let that half of him
shine through.
     "I would hold you with desire, my kaserin, but my body proclaims the
need of rest this night." Andrew said.
     "Then let it rest." Renaud said and Andrew sagged against him.  "I
shall do the work entire, my kaserin."
     Andrew felt Renaud's hand at his groin and sighed, his cock surged
with desire at the first fumbling touches, and Renaud fought his body free
of the constraining tights.
     "Ah, you have blood enough left in you for this at least." Renaud said
teasingly.
     "You may have my last drop of blood." Andrew said.  "It is yours upon
your request."
     "It's not your blood I am seeking." Renaud reminded him.  And his head
darted below the covers.
     Renaud never ceased to surprise him.  He expected this sort of
hot-blooded reaction from another Neresterii, but this half-French lover
was truly talented.  Andrew felt the darting tongue lapping at his cock's
underside like an overly-friendly dog laps your hand, the moist warmth
enticing his blood to his cockhead, causing his cock to tingle all over in
response.  He managed to make his right arm find and tousle Renaud's head,
but his fingers were stiff and unresponsive and he wielded his fingers like
a rake.  A part of him wondered if he had lost his skill with the sword as
a result of this afternoon's bout.  Well, there were other ways to serve
his King, such as having a quick ear about Montaigne's court and Renaud
would keep no secrets of such from him....
     Renaud reached up and his lips surrounded his cockhead and buried him
there in hot wetness.  Andrew groaned and Renaud lifted his lips quickly
and bobbed a few quick strokes upon Andrew's manhood.
     "Ah, yes." Andrew groaned.  "Ah, yes."
     Renaud continued, until Andrew's blood seethed once again in his
brain, until the covers over them were a whipping frenzy of cloth, until
Andrew's balls surged up against his shaft.
     Renaud then pulled off the coverings and Andrew looked downwards with
glazed, half-comprehending eyes.  Renaud had managed to strip while nursing
Andrew's cock.  He continually was amazed with Renaud's abilities.  Who had
taught him all this?  Andrew knew that had he tried the same he would have
failed utterly at both, not succeeded so smoothly.
     "Dare I ride you again this night?" Renaud asked him.
     "I am not wounded below my waist." Andrew agreed.  "My injuries are
but to my arms and my upper back.  If you will avoid these areas, you may
take your liberties."
     "I am grateful." Renaud said and straddled him once again.  The tent
was low; Renaud's head just had room at its very apex.
     Renaud's ass clutched at Andrew's cock like an old friend.  "Ah, my
stallion, you are broken now to the rein." he said in remembrance of the
former afternoon's pleasure.
     "I am not broken." Andrew said.  "To be broken is to submit, and I
give myself to you willingly, with eager pleasure, not humbled compliance."
     "I stand corrected." Renaud said and he pressed down until Andrew's
cock was thoroughly buried in him, writhed atop Andrew so that a hundred
small movements manipulated his cock adroitly.
     Andrew could hardly think for the pleasure of the hot dampness
clutching his organ, but he managed, "I would return this favor as soon as
my shoulder heals and will permit me to turn over."
     "Would you not be more comfortable upon your back?" Renaud asked,
paused in his wriggling movement.
     "Perhaps," Andrew conceded, "but I would then have to rest weight upon
my arms, and they will not bear me at this time, I think."
     "Then I shall enjoy this ride once again." Renaud began now to lift
his body up and drop it down upon Andrew.  This jolting brought a small
amount of pain to Andrew's shoulder, but it was more than overborne by the
joy singing out from his cock, and he groaned, wanting so much to touch
this wonderful rider atop him, but his arms would not obey him!  He was
helpless here, pinioned beneath his lover's body, left dependent upon him
and subjected to his pleasures.  Renaud was right, he was broken in!
     Renaud rode him with a lithe movement that indeed reminded him of the
way Renaud sat a horse, and he glided atop Andrew's body with a rocking
that brought to mind the way his thin body moved with the horse, an ease
that Andrew envied and enjoyed at once.
     His body surged with his passion, hot ripples of joy swelled across
him, seeming not to run upwards this time, but downwards from his head to
his feet, the way Renaud's body was moving him, as he rose up and forward,
then sat down and slid backwards, sending Andrew's cock plunging back into
him.
     Andrew's toes curled up in response to the desire that was reaching
them, and they wriggled of their own accord, as if, had they the length and
the dexterity, they would have lief replaced his fingers and reached up and
stroked Renaud's back, but they were imprisoned at the damnably unbendable
legs, and so they twitched there, hungrily unsatiated in their need for
reciprocation.
     From those toes, those writhing bulbs, Andrew felt his orgasm rise,
the way it crawled up his legs, contrarily pushing against and feeding upon
the waves of pleasure going downwards, spilling upwards until they met and
collided with his cock from two directions, and Andrew groaned as his cock
boiled with the foaming waves sidling up it from inside, and squeezed out
of him by this foaming crest, he spewed his wads into Renaud's bowels.
     Renaud's eyes were fixed upon Andrew's own, and as Andrew reached his
climax, as Renaud saw his face soften with pleasure, he suddenly squinched
his own eyes tight and clenched his teeth, and Andrew felt Renaud's cock
spray his chest with powerful spurts of liquid joy that reached up to his
very neck, from the sheer power of Renaud's ejaculation, so that he was
left with three long lines of hot jism-lines upon his body, while Renaud
groaned and gasped back control of his body.
     Done, Renaud lowered himself onto Andrew so-cautiously, taking all his
weight on his elbows, so that none of it added to the pressure on Andrew's
back-wound, and Renaud leaned down thus and tasted the sweaty nectar of
Andrew's lips and gave back ambrosia of his own in beaded drops into
Andrew's open and welcoming mouth.
     "Now, my kaserin-mignon," Renaud said.  "We shall both sleep until we
feel like waking up, for I have left orders for us not to be disturbed."
     "We should be at Heslov by tomorrow." Andrew said.
     "We shall take a week if we must." Renaud said.  "Four of my friends
have agreed to stay with us and safeguard us from further dangers on the
path.  You may rest, for your blade will not be needed longer on this
journey."
     "I pray only that my arm will heal entire." Andrew said.  "If I lose
the blade so quickly, I shall be shamed."
     "You will never be shamed." Renaud said.  "For as long as I have a
home, so do you."
     But Renaud had no home to speak of, Andrew realized.  "And my father's
inn shall be your residence if the need comes." he temporized.
     "I am grateful." Renaud said.  "But let us plot instead on how we may
squeeze many prime lands from Montaigne's hands.  I have an eye on a place
called Cederel, which is not large in size, but rich and abundant in its
produce.  It has five hundred serfs attached to it and is surrounded by my
father's lands, a pocket of the King's territory there and a constant thorn
in his side.  If Montaigne will give it to me, we may retire there at
once."
     "Maybe." Andrew said as Renaud's cheek rested happily against his.
"Maybe."
     If Renaud had his eyes upon some of the King's own personal lands,
then maybe he wouldn't be a neutral after all!
     And when the King regained his throne, he would remember the Count's
men among Montaigne's court.
     This wasn't going to be so easy after all!